


no fate but what we make

by gotham_ruaidh



Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [128]
Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:22:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22354048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gotham_ruaidh/pseuds/gotham_ruaidh
Summary: Someone from the past makes a very unexpected - but not unwelcome - visit to Fraser's Ridge. Set in a speculative Book 9 universe.
Relationships: Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser
Series: Gotham Writes for Imagine Claire & Jamie [128]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/345047
Comments: 32
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](https://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/190386215649/no-fate-but-what-we-make) on tumblr

I squinted at the rows and rows of neatly-arranged jars on the shelf, still not remembering where I’d placed anything. I’d insisted to Jamie that the surgery in our new house would be bigger than in the first Big House – he had been more than happy to oblige – but now I had to live with the consequences.

Why hadn’t I organized the herbs alphabetically?

“Mama?” Bree’s voice drifted from somewhere in the house.

“In the surgery, lovie,” I replied, running my fingers along the labels.

Bree’s bootsteps echoed on the landing, and just as I turned to the door to greet her –

“Oof!”

Mandy giggled, tiny arms locked around my knees. “Found ye, Grannie!”

Gently I pried her arms away. “You certainly did! Are you with your Mama?”

“There you are!” Bree whirled through the doorway, arms extended to pry Mandy away from my middle. “Did you knock first to let Grannie know you were coming in?”

I pursed my lips, knowing better than to respond.

“No, Mama. But –”

Bree hoisted her daughter up and onto her hip. “But nothing, Mandy. There are many things in here that could hurt you, and if Grannie is in the middle of something she may need to clean her hands before saying hello. It’s important for you to always ask permission here. OK?”

Mandy nodded, curls bouncing. She turned to face me. “OK for me to come in, Grannie?”

I smiled. “Yes, it’s OK, Mandy. But please knock on my door and ask me next time.”

She nodded, and rested her head on Bree’s shoulder.

Now I turned to face my daughter. “Were you looking for me?”

“Yes – A man has just arrived. And all our men and boys are up at the whisky spring.”

Mandy idly kicked her legs around Bree’s sides.

“A man? Do you know him?”

“I’ve never seen him before. But he’s asking for you.”

Quickly I scanned the surgery. “Was he injured?”

“No. He doesn’t look to be in need of anything – he has substantial saddlebags on his horse. Rachel’s with him now, on the porch – I didn’t want to leave him alone.”

The knife Jamie had made for me rested on the table beside a half-shredded pile of fennel. I sheathed it and slipped it into my pocket, grabbing my small medicine box as I stepped around Bree and into the hallway.

Mid-afternoon sun slanted through the high windows Jamie had been so thrilled to install. Adso drowsed in a pool of sunlight on the floorboards, Fannie scratching his belly. And through the windows I saw the man’s back – and Rachel and Jenny standing before him, Oggy sleeping against his grandmother’s shoulder.

The man stood as he heard my footsteps, and removed his hat in a sign of respect.

More than thirty years had passed since I’d seen him – but there was no doubt.

I dropped my medicine box.

“Bonjour, madonna.” His smile gleamed amid an incredibly wizened face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](https://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/190442064781/imagine-master-raymond-tells-claire-who-and-what) on tumblr

I patted Clarence’s side, weighed heavily with two casks of whisky, eyes keen on my giggling grandsons.

Ian had thought it humorous to give Jem and Germaine a wee dram when we arrived at the whisky spring. By the time Roger and I returned from gathering supplies from Clarence’s saddlebags, it was too late.

I’d promised Claire we would return by early afternoon. But Roger and I had agreed it wise to wait a bit until the lads could at least walk in a straight line. So the sky had already started to turn shades of orange by the time we crested the final hill, in sight of the new house.

Ian had wisely gone ahead of us at a faster pace. All the quicker to reunite with his wife and child, he had said – but Roger Mac and I knew better.

“I canna exactly tell Bree about this.” Roger sighed on my left side, shifting a spade to his other shoulder. “Fergus and Marsali wouldna mind. But Bree, weel…”

“I’m sure ye’ve come to realize during the years of yer marriage that what yer wife doesna ken, willna hurt her.” I slackened my hold on Clarence’s lead. “For the small things like this.”

“I ken. Big secrets and bad news dinna keep. But this – ”

“Look, Grand-da! There’s a horse in front of the house!”

I squinted – Jem was right. An unfamiliar horse stood, hobbled, to the right of the new house, a small pile of saddlebags neatly at his side.

“Were ye expecting anyone?”

“No. Whoever it is, he’s in the house.” I handed Clarence’s lead to Roger. “See to the mule, and the lads. I must find Claire.”

I didn’t wait for Roger to reply – only picked up the pace and strode past my grandsons, mind racing.

With the house so newly finished, we hadn’t yet received many visitors. It wasn’t John – he would have brought more than just one horse. Not a backcountry man, either – no animal pelts spilled out of the saddlebags. Soldiers always came at least in twos.

I leapt up the stairs and onto the porch, pushing the front door open. Strained voices drifted from the parlor – Claire, and Bree.

In seconds I was there – and clutched the doorframe in shock.

“Jamie – you remember Master Raymond, from Paris?”

Claire’s voice was higher pitched than usual. Dumbly I stared at the impossibly old man, wedged into a corner of the settee, legs barely touching the ground.

Master Raymond stood and bowed.

“An honor to see you again, Monsieur Fraser.”

For only the second time in my life I felt a swoon coming on.

“The honor is mine, Maître Raymond. Much has happened since last we met.”

“Indeed. I have been re-acquainting myself with Madame Fraser. It is her renown as a healer that made it easy to find you, even here in the backcountry.”

I swallowed, and slowly stepped into the room. Wordlessly I sank into the chair beside Claire’s. Her hands were clasped tightly across her knees, the knuckles white.

“I see. And I’m sure you’ve been introduced to our daughter, Brianna.”

“He met Mandy and Jenny and Rachel, too,” Bree quickly interjected from her seat beside Raymond. “Mama insisted the three of them prepare supper – for you and the other men, and for our guest.”

Raymond turned to face Claire. “Mother Hildegard was right, madonna. God did bless you with another child. And grandchildren, too.”

Pain surged through my heart – Paris, and Faith, and the soul-deep loss that had nearly destroyed my marriage. I held out my hand – and Claire gripped it, eyes steady on Raymond.

“You gave me the gift of my life.” Claire’s voice was tired, subdued. “I didn’t want it at the time – not for a long time. But I am grateful.”

“And you have this beautiful daughter.” Now Raymond turned to Bree, gently gathering her hands in his. “I called your mother ‘madonna.’ Do you know why, Brianna?”

I saw Brianna swallow, almost painfully. Mesmerized by this man.

“She’s a mother.”

“Yes, that is true. She believed the same, when I asked her this question, many years ago. But it is more than that.”

Claire squeezed my hand. Memories of Paris flashed – Jared’s house, L’Hopital, the Bois. And I realized that Claire had never told me about this exchange with Raymond.

“Everyone has a color about them.” Raymond’s words were careful, measured. “All around them, like a cloud. Your mother’s is blue, like the Virgin’s cloak.”

He paused. Glanced over to me. Returned his gaze to my daughter.

“Your father’s is red. Many years ago, before you were born, I called him the ‘red man.’”

Claire’s hand went ice cold in my grip.

“But you, Brianna – yours is blue as well. It is like my own.”

Brianna stood up, dropping Raymond’s hands.

“What do you mean?” she whispered. “Are you like us?”

“Your daughter – hers is the same color blue. The most vibrant I have ever seen.”

I knelt at Claire’s side, wrapping my arms around her as she trembled.

“Can you travel?” Brianna whispered.

Raymond sighed. “Yes, I am like you. Or more accurately, you are like me. And yes, I can walk through time. You don’t remember, but I would look in on you sometimes, on Furey Street.”

Brianna crumpled onto the settee.

“Why would you never come in?” Claire croaked, voice hoarse with emotion.

“I knew of the sacrifice you had made to save your daughter, madonna. I did not want to disrupt that life.” He twisted his gnarled fingers on his lap. “I did attend your graduation from medical school. I cannot tell you how pleased I am, Claire. You have done so much with your life.”

I struggled to find my voice. When I spoke, it sounded a bit louder and harsher than I had intended.

“Are my women yer kin, then? Is that why ye’ve taken such an – an interest in us?”

He looked at me. Those dark eyes were like staring into the void of time itself.

“Claire is a cherished granddaughter, many times over. I am privileged to have known her so closely. The purpose of my visit is to build the same bond with Claire’s descendants. And to teach them to heal, using the gift we were all born with.”

The front door creaked open. The boys ran down the hallway, heading straight for the kitchen. Within seconds Roger appeared in the doorway of the parlor, hat in his hands. His eyes darted from me, to Claire, to Bree, to Raymond – clearly the source of tension in the room.

“Pardon. I’m Roger MacKenzie – Brianna’s husband.”

Raymond smiled, ecstatic. “Brianna – he is blue, too.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> originally posted at [Imagine Claire & Jamie](https://imagineclaireandjamie.tumblr.com/post/190497693714/master-raymond-takes-claire-under-his-wing-he) on tumblr

There is something comforting about huddling around a fire with your clan.

I remember learning by firelight when I was a boy.

My father and grandfather patiently taught me the spells of pain, fire, fertility, and healing. They opened my eyes to a world full of spirits and demons and angels. They taught me the difference between red and green and orange and blue auras.

Together on the sun feasts and fire feasts we would chant in the stone circles. Dance around bonfires. Leave gifts for the spirits. And walk through time.

I remember huddling with my wife around the hearthfire of our own small dwelling, during the single blessed decade we had shared as Roman influence waned in Gaul. Cradling our children. Teaching them the secrets of plants, and incantations in my father’s dead language, and the joy and danger of our gifts.

Claire was a direct descendant of my union with Leuca. Perhaps it was Claire’s name that had drawn me to her at first – for Leuca’s name was derived from the Gaulish _leucos_ , meaning bright or clear. The two women were separated by a millennium and a half. But the more I knew Claire, the more I could see my beloved in her face, in her tenacity, and in her heart.

Tonight, gathered around the blazing hearth in the backcountry of North Carolina, I watched the firelight play on Claire’s face. And the faces of her husband, and daughter, and son-in-law, and granddaughter, and grandson. The blue glow surrounding each of them was almost as bright to me as the fire that warmed us.

I watched Amanda quietly toddle over to me from her spot snug between her parents. She rested her small hand on mine.

 _You’re like us_.

Her dark eyes blazed up at me.

 _Yes, mon petit. I too can travel through the stones_.

Across the room, Brianna stirred. Claire rested a steadying hand on her shoulder. I knew their eyes watched me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from this very special little girl.

 _Why can we do it? Mama says it’s because Grannie can do it_.

I caressed her soft cheek. _Because we carry within us a gift that many people forgot, a long time ago. It is our responsibility to understand and cherish this gift_.

Amanda pursed her lips, thinking. Then she turned away – but kept her hand on mine.

“Mama?”

Brianna cleared her throat. “Yes, lovie?”

“Raymond says we’re special.”

Roger wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulder.

“Of course we’re special, honey. That’s why we were able to come here. That’s why Grannie was able to come here first, before I was born.”

Amanda turned back to face me. This time she spoke aloud for everyone’s benefit. “But why, Raymond? Why can we?”

The fire crackled in the hearth.

From the mouths of babes.

“A long time ago, Raymond – before I came to France – I met Roger’s ancestor, Geillis Duncan.” Claire gazed into the fire, one hand curled around a glass of whisky, her other hand entwined with Jamie’s. “I found out she could travel. She said we had the ability to travel, so that we could change things.”

She took a long sip of whisky. “When Jamie and I met you in Paris, we were trying to change things. We failed – miserably. In fact, I’ve often thought that our actions actually helped events take place.”

“Claire – ” Jamie interjected.

Her next words came out all in a rush. “I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful for the life I’ve had. Because I’m not – certainly not. I found the other half of my soul. Against the odds I made a family with him. And here we all are, together. Because, in part, of you, Raymond.”

She sighed. “I know why I fell through time – it was to find Jamie. But that’s the reason specific to me. Surely there must be an explanation for all of it – for all of us.”

Carefully I lifted Amanda to my lap. One by one, I looked at the faces of my family.

“I asked my father that same question, the first night we walked together through time.”

“Ye learned it from yer Da?” Jeremiah gaped.

“And he from his father before him. I wasn’t much older than Amanda. It was the summer solstice. Father chanted the prayer, then lay my hand on the stone.”

“Where was this?” Brianna asked softly.

“The Romans called it Gaul. In your time you know it as France. Near what is now Verdun, to be specific.”

“And when was this?”

I considered how to answer. “We kept track of time differently in those days. By my calculation, about four hundred years before Jesus of Nazareth.”

“Christ,” Jamie breathed.

“What about your father?” Roger sat up a bit straighter beside his wife. “When was he from?”

“I do not know the year. But he did tell me how he and his clan would paint inside caves, and perform rituals there. I visited once, when I spent some time in Lascaux in the 1980s.” I cleared my throat. “Anyway – when we passed through the stone, I could see what I now know to be wagons and carts. Hundreds of men running in all directions. Loud explosions. The earth erupting in flame.”

“The First World War.” Roger rubbed his face with his hands. “Holy God.”

“Father and I returned immediately, of course. I remember resting against another stone in the circle, terrified. I was shaking very hard. But I’ll never forget what he told me.”

I paused. Memory was a funny thing – one does not think about an event for years, and all of a sudden every small detail floods back. The way the clouds caught the sunset. The sharp tang of crushed grass beneath my shoes. The cool sweat trickling down the back of my neck.

“Father said that ours is a heavy burden to bear. For we touch the pulse of time. But that in exchange for this burden, we have a gift that cannot be matched.”

“Which is?” Claire’s voice lifted in anticipation.

“To change things.”

Her brows furrowed. Skeptical. “But –”

“I have enriched the lives of those I care for. I saved your life. Did I not change things? What about the hundreds of people you have healed – have you not changed things?”

“Ye told Jenny to plant potatos at Lallybroch.” Jamie’s voice was so gentle. “Did ye no’ change things for our family – helped them stay alive?”

“But just because we can change things, doesna mean we should.” Roger crossed his legs. “Before Bree and I came back – I visited Jamie’s home in Scotland, not long before his father died. I could have warned him of what was to come. But that would have changed things – and perhaps Jamie would never have met Claire.”

“But you do not know that for certain,” I gently chided. “Yes of course you could have changed that course. But you could also have set another course which would have led to the same conclusion. You will never know.”

I shifted Amanda to my other knee. “We have all changed things. I could have chosen to not heal you, Claire – and yet, here you are. You could have chosen to not return to Jamie – and yet you did, and one would argue you have these two beautiful grandchildren as a result.”

Claire sighed.

I closed my eyes. “Father said it was my responsibility to change the lives of my family, and those within my care. I hope I have lived up to that responsibility.”

The room settled into silence. Images from eight centuries flashed in my memory. As did my visit to this same home, a century hence, in the aftermath of yet another war.

Amanda patted my hand. “I like being your family.”

I kissed the top of her head. “As do I, _petite fille_.”

“As do I,” Claire echoed, crossing the room and enfolding me in her embrace.


End file.
